


Down by the river

by Malicean



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 12:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17325113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malicean/pseuds/Malicean
Summary: A skull, some memories. No Hamlet involved.





	Down by the river

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Deutsch available: [Am Fluss](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17406842) by [Malicean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malicean/pseuds/Malicean)



> My New Year's resolution for 2019: crosspost my works from FFnet to AO3 at last.  
> Since some of those are over a decade old by now, though, I will look through each of them first, for a bit of a rehaul. Content will not change, but I will remove obvious mistakes and perhaps break up some walls-of-text. Expect about two or three chapters/oneshots per week that way, depending on size and how much time I can make to work on them.  
> (For the impatient reader: I use the same pen name on FFnet, too.)
> 
>  **Down by the river** was first posted on now-defunct uruk-hai.org on 1/20/2005 and then on FFnet on 4/8/2006

* * *

One walked down to the river.

Down through the trees and the falling leaves. Down the slopes full of dark green foliage and untimely blossoms. Scarlet blossoms.

 _Seregloth_ , blood flowers. They thrive where the earth was soaked deeply with blood.

 _Khildagor_ , battle suitors. The first sign of life to spring from the trampled ground.

 _Ironlove_ , the dwarves call them. For it is the warlike metal they seek, whether it comes from the crimson blood of the slain or the fallen weapons that spilled it. Here they prospered.

The wanderer stepped carefully around the green cushions. Rusting steel lurked under the leaves. The bleak ivory of bones.

A ring of ruby-tainted emerald caught the searching gaze. A skull lay inside. Tender fingers lifted it from its resilient bed. Trailed the broad brows, the strong jaws that spoke of strength and determination in life. Coruscant eyes stared into the empty sockets. Deeper and deeper and deeper. There was ...

 _The elation of victory_. Stronger than death. His lord had succeeded and his life was well spent to achieve this.

 _The joy of the fight_. His blood singing while steel was slaked. What did it that both he and his enemy were bleeding. Blood was sweet.

 _The moment of triumph_. A worthy adversary. An enemy that had killed many of his men was now dying at his feet.

 _The culmination of the hunt_. The prey within sight and nothing could stop them now.

 _The first sip from the grim chalice of battle_. Last orders to his men. Dividing them to dispose of the first defenders and pursue their quarry with the main force.

 _The ardour of the chase_. Swift and cunning game. Yet nothing could aspire to escape them.

 _The delight of command_. They were the best. The strongest, the fastest, the toughest soldiers of their lord. His elite.

 _The pride of promotion_. He was the chosen one among his brothers. He alone had earned the trust of their lord.

 _The exaltation of being_. Life throbbed hot and wild through his veins. The heat of the furnaces, the coolness of the caves, the shadows of the night, the blaze of the day. All felt new and wonderful to him.

The images faded. A bare skull stared blindly back. Broad brows, strong jaws. Strength and determination. And deadly fighting fangs.


End file.
